Did Someone Say “June Gloom”?

The California Channel Islands trip promised to be an exciting adventure to an area some call the Galapagos of North America because of its numerous and unique species. Getting there was going to involve some serious blue water sailing. However, not all promises can be fulfilled.

While some participants chose to fly to Los Angeles early, most arrived on the first Saturday of the trip. This was to be our provisioning and boat checkout day. Both were achieved, but not without some bumps along the way. Mia's boat checkout was delayed because the boat originally chartered was made unseaworthy the day before by the previous renter. The charter company, Marina Sailing, quickly responded by identifying a replacement boat to be delivered from their Long Beach base. Alas, less speedy was the delivery, as Long Beach is thirty five miles away by sea. Lucky Lady arrived at the fuel dock mid-afternoon, and the charter firm's checkout was completed in short order. While waiting for Lucky Lady to arrive, Mia and some of her crew hung out on Steve's boat, Miss Behavin, while he completed his charter checkout. Eventually Steve invited them to leave so that he could complete the checkout without distraction. Mia regretted being on board for any of the checkout, because for the rest of the week she kept mistakenly recalling details of Miss Behavin and forgetting which boat she was on.

Mia’s rental car wasn’t nearly large enough to take more than three of her crew, so Charlotte and Henry were left on board to unpack and relax. The shoppers checked off most items on the shopping list at Trader Joes with a stop at Pavillions for soda and half-way decent bagels. Seeing that her crew was fading fast (Mia was one of the early travelers and had overcome the three hour time difference days before), Mia put in a takeout order at Panera. Then she and Bruce went on a combined donut and dinner pickup. You simply can’t visit LA and not stock up at Randy’s Donuts. Jet lag was also setting in on Miss Behavin. They too decided not go find a restaurant, but to just graze on some of the recently procured cheese, crackers, salsa, and other easy food. The final chore of the day was the rental car returns. Uber provided efficient transport back to the boats.

On Sunday it was an early start, as it's about forty-five miles to our first port of call, Channel Islands Harbor. This is mostly a westerly trek, and as luck would have it, the winds, such as they were, wafted in from the west. In addition, there was a bit of morning fog, but high enough that visibility wasn't hampered. Morning fog would be a recurring theme for the trip. In fact, the locals even have a name for it – June Gloom – as apparently most of the month of June, and not any other month, is plagued by this weather pattern in the Los Angeles area. Motoring the whole way at flank speed, we arrived at Channel Islands Harbor, where the skies were clear and the sun was bright. Showers for some, cocktails for all, then it was off to Sea Fresh Channel Islands, a quaint seafood restaurant right at the marina.

Although an early start on Monday was not needed, everyone was up at the crack of dawn, still adjusting to the three hour time difference. Both boats departed about nine o’clock, heading west to Santa Cruz Island. It’s the largest of the archipelago, the largest island in California, and the third largest in the Lower 48. As the wind was still wafting in from the west (it would do so until the last day), no sails were raised.

About halfway across Santa Barbara Channel, Miss Behavin's crew noticed that the water ahead appeared quite agitated. Figuring it was fish out for their mid-morning snack, they kept going. Suddenly, about a hundred yards off, Cherie saw a whale break the surface. And tons of dolphin. And flocks of seabirds. The whales (there appeared to be two) would surface only momentarily before disappearing. A few minutes later, one would appear quite a distance from the previous sighting. Miss Behavin was treated with one surfacing about a hundred feet off the port beam. What a thrill! A few minutes later Lucky Lady passed through the area and, recognizing the telltale signs of feeding dolphins, slowed for the photo opportunity. They too were treated to the sight of humpback whales surfacing amid the chaos of dolphins, fish, and birds.

We arrived at the anchorage around mid-day, allowing time for crews to dinghy ashore for some nature hikes. These had to be done in shifts, as the charter company required able crew to always be aboard when at the islands. Just as well, as the provided dinghies wouldn't hold more than three adults. As on the previous day, the sun came out strong in the afternoon, but probably made for a more scenic hike, as the full island could be seen, including Devil's Peak, rising up over 2400 feet. Joel and Steve spotted an Island Fox. Native to these islands and no place else in the world, they are about the size of a large house cat. They spotted another at the end of the hike, milling about near the rocky beach, looking for scraps. They also don't seem to be afraid of people.

Being overly compliant with Marina Sailing’s rules as well as Mia’s recollection of her past trips here and the cruising guide, Lucky Lady’s crew members each took a ninety-minute anchor watch that night. Some chose to sit up in the cockpit and look at the stars, others stayed below, checking our position every few minutes. In the deepest hour of the night, Charlotte, who chose to sit in the cockpit, was visited by a mysterious drone. Military? Insomniac on shore or another boat? We’ll never know. But Charlotte was sure who ever was operating it was as surprised as she was to see someone sitting up on an anchored boat..

Another attraction on Santa Cruz Island is a formation known as Painted Cave. This is on the other end of the island, about fifteen miles from the anchorage. On Tuesday, rather than head north to the mainland and Santa Barbara, both boats motored the length of the island to explore the cave. This also had to be done in shifts: there is no anchorage, so the boats had to mill about, and crew had to board the dinghies while doing so. The Cave gets its name from the layers of colorful rock and patches of algae inside, though it was hard to tell as it was quite dark and our boats weren’t equipped with powerful, portable spotlights. Unmistakable however, was the raucous barking of the seals and sea lions deep within, amplified by the cave walls. Our smaller flashlights revealed them lounging on rock ledges in the darkness. Except, of course, the ones that took to the water, gathering near the cave entrance like a gang of thugs waiting to prevent our departure. Fortunately, that was just in our imagination. The cave is also the home to hundreds of birds, including the unusual Pigeon Guillemot, a red footed seabird related to the puffin. They soared from their rocky perches as we entered the cave, their red feet flashing.

After this refreshing diversion, we took advantage of the westerly breeze and finally put up sail for the trip back to Scorpion Cove where we re-anchored for the night. Aboard Lucky Lady the crew debated about the fairest way to establish the order of watch: Reverse the order – that was unpopular among those in the middle of the schedule? Reverse the order of picking times – the previous night they’d rolled a die, the highest roller picking first? Re-roll and re-pick? As bedtime approached Mia declared no watches, as long as everyone agreed that when they got up in the night they would have a good look around.

Perhaps the Painted Cave sea lions followed us back to the anchorage, because the tranquility of the early morning hours was shattered by their incessant barking. After a leisurely breakfast, and waiting for the fog to diminish, we headed east to Ventura Harbor. Alas, the west winds also diminished – to nothing – and we motored the fifteen miles, arriving in the early afternoon. The boats were in adjacent slips, so an impromptu cocktail party broke out; complete with Steve's piña coladas. Afterwards, folks meandered around the marina complex, a mini-village, complete with shops, restaurants, and the like. The crew of Miss Behavin stopped at the seafood store and picked up a pound of shrimp to go with the pasta dinner they were having aboard that evening. The gang on Lady Luck dined at Brophy Brothers, and recommended it highly.

The following day, Thursday, was a layover day. In the morning, most everyone walked over to the Visitor's Center for the Park. Although a small facility, it provided a great deal of information on the flora and fauna of the islands. On the way back to the boats, some stopped for coffee, other ice cream. A few took the free shuttle bus to Ventura proper and explored "downtown." That evening, Miss Behavin dined at Brophy Brothers and found it just as excellent as Mia's crew had said. Lady Luck’s crew went across the parking lot to Andria’s and decided it was just as good.

Friday morning presented itself with more of that darned fog, so there was no rush to leave. While visibility was a couple of miles or more, the islands, being offshore, would be more ensconced in it, and not conducive to hiking. It's also a short run, about fifteen miles, to Anacapa. We arrived in the early afternoon to our intended anchorage next to Arch Rock, the symbol of the park. This is also the best place to go ashore for a visit to the lighthouse. Unfortunately, the five days of westerly breezes had built up enough of a fetch to make this spot too unsettled for comfort. While it would have been okay for a lunch hook and shore visit, the process for that was daunting: launch the dinghy from the deck where it was stowed, get in it, and get it over to a ladder on the side of a cement platform on shore. Get up the platform, then haul the dinghy up, because it could not be left afloat in the tiny landing where the tourist boats come in. And then climb the 120 step staircase up the cliff to the trailhead. All enthusiasm for trying this vanished when we saw just how high that cement platform was.

After taking many more photos than necessary of the arch, the other boat through the arch, the crazy high platform, and variations on these subjects, we swung around to the south side of the island. The one downside to the East Fish Camp anchorage was the almost forty foot depths, requiring every inch of both anchor lines. For Miss Behavin it also involved more than a few anchoring attempts to get both anchors holding properly, and not having the anchor lines wrap around the large boulders on the bottom. The boats danced around the anchors, depending on wind and current, but made it through the night without ending up bumping into the sheer rock wall of the island or tangling their props in the local kelp beds.

Our last day on the water was another long trek, back east to Marina Del Rey. As fate would have it, the winds had swung around to the east, so we motored the whole forty-five miles back. Nonetheless, we arrived in the early afternoon, none the worse for wear. Unfortunately, the boats were once again located at different marinas – too far apart to walk between them -- so we couldn't have our traditional dockside "must-go" party.

While not quite the trip we expected, our California adventure provided fascinating sights and great camaraderie. We discovered a truly accommodating and welcoming group at Marina Sailing, and experienced up close the rugged conditions around the offshore islands. Many thanks to the crews of Lucky Lady – Bob, Bruce, Charlotte, Henry, and John F.; and of Miss Behavin – Cherie, Nancy, Isak, Joel, and John B.

Mia and Steve